Promise (a poem)

They say that bad things always come in threes, and
Children should be seen and not heard. Sometimes, they say
It’s better to give than to receive, or
It’s better to be safe than to be sorry. But
They never warn you that your friends might be
Making potions in their veins, or
Falling in love with men with sleeping fists.

They don’t tell you that you will watch your mother die,
Her hungry frame like a gauze-covered hanger. Or that
Her mother will die later, and that by then you won’t care.

And the thing is, bad things come in more than threes,
We are only young once so let us enjoy it,
Everyone loves a gift, and
Sometimes sorry just happens, so
Please. Please give us some new adages.
Give us something we can work with.
Give us some notion of what is really coming.

Here’s my idea: We will be young, and then we will be older, and in between
Some really good things will happen, and some really
Bad things will happen. But if we can just keep on breathing then
We will live until we don’t. And
That’s really the only promise that anyone can make.